


The Language Of Snakes

by MissDrarryDawn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, M/M, Parseltongue, PostWar, Smut, firsttimesmut, havemercy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-11-02 00:23:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20558888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDrarryDawn/pseuds/MissDrarryDawn
Summary: If there is one thing Harry Potter learned from the war, it's that life's too short to hesitate. There's only one chance to go after the things you wanted. Of course, Harry Potter wouldn't be Harry Potter if the thing he wanted wasn't unattainable. The stakes were too high, and he wasn't going to risk someone's safety and well-being over his selfishness. Letting them go was the safer alternative, although painful. However, despite this decision, Harry can't bear to leave Hogwarts without ever telling them. So, what does he do? He tells them, absolutely everything...in Parseltongue.//Completed//Word count: 11.4k





	The Language Of Snakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cecithewitchbitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecithewitchbitch/gifts).

> Hi! Uhm, first time writing smut, so have mercy on me. Story's a gift because they asked for smut in a different fic, so I figured I'd deliver, besides i wanted to step out of my comfort zone and try to write smut. i do hope its at least decent. anyways, i want to hear your feedback, what's good, what needs improving. means a lot. id love to see it. thank you so much! and i hope you enjoy!

"Potter what the actual fuck?" 

Draco snapped at the Gryffindor, who had come up to him a moment ago, stood there for a minute staring, and has now started speaking...in Parseltongue. He was hissing something, and Draco didn't understand a single hiss. He didn't stop, or even flinch when Draco yelled at him, just stared the blonde right in the eyes and kept hissing for England.

"No, really Potter. What the fuck are you doing?" Draco tried again, crossing his arms across his chest. He was grateful for everything Potter did for him during and after the war, but that didn't mean the prick could just go up to him and hiss at him out of bloody nowhere. Potter just kept hissing, voice dropping and rising in tone, some hisses short and cut off, some long and throaty. It sounded very smooth and deep, but Draco still didn't understand a thing. He stared into those dumb green eyes, but for the first time in nearly 8 years, Draco couldn't decipher a single emotion out of them. Usually, Potter's eyes gave him away, whether it be rage or happiness, you could read it straight out of his green eyes. Now, though, they were veiled. Not a single emotion came through. Completely blank. It thoroughly freaked Draco out. Was he cursed? Suddenly, he stopped hissing, and after another moment, turned around, and just walked away. What. The. Hell?

"Oi Potter! For Merlin's sake stop! You can't just--" Draco ran to catch up to him and grip his arm, turning him around forcefully.

"Let go Malfoy." His voice was soft and somber. 

"What the hell was that?" Draco asked, gripping harder.

"Nothing Malfoy. Please just...let go.." He begged, voice cracking at the end. This alone startled Draco enough to drop his arm helplessly, and watch him walk away. 

~

The second time it happened was 2 weeks after the first incident. Potter approached him, and started to hiss, telling him _something_ in the language of snakes. In the 2 weeks between incidents, Draco had been unsuccessfully stalking Potter, attempting to get an answer out of him, but he always just shook his head gently and walked away. It was infuriating. _Pay attention to me dammit! _Now, the bastard comes to him only to start hissing again. This time, Draco wouldn't let him get away with it so easily. As soon as Potter turned around to leave, Draco grabbed him again.

"Now you fucking tell me what the fuck you were telling me Potter." He barked, harsher than he'd intended if Potter's flinch was anything to go by. He, again, turned around, and just gently shook his head, eyes never leaving Draco's own.

"Tell me." Draco whined, not even caring he sounded like a child.

Head shake.

"Tell me." The blonde whined again, more drawn out this time.

Head shake.

"Tell meeee!" Draco pouted, still holding Potter's arm.

A charming grin broke out on Potter's face and he shook his head once again, face falling once more.

"Why not?" Draco asked instead. Potter blinked, shoulders slumping:

"Because you deserve better." 

He simply stated, and yanked free of Draco's loosened grip. _What the fresh hell?_

_~_

The third time it happened, Draco was just resigned at this point, aware he wouldn't get an answer out of Potter. He couldn't stop thinking about what Potter told him last time.

_'Because you deserve better.'_

What did he mean by that? Better than what? Draco ran a hand through his hair as he stood in the corridor, listening to the stupid hissing. It made him shiver every time Potter would do it. It had occurred to him that he didn't _have_ to stand there and listen, but for some reason, he stood every time, and waited for Potter to finish. When he did, he left again. He walked back to his friends, Granger's face crestfallen, and Weasley's just furrowed. Maybe Granger knew something? Surely. 

The next day, Draco walked up to Granger, ready to get slapped again.

"Granger? Can I talk to you for a moment?" He asked, hesitantly. She turned and sighed, nodding, following him away from her two friends.

"I know what you're going to ask, and _yes_, I _do_ know what Harry's been telling you in Parseltongue, but I can't tell you."

"Now hold on a minute-" Draco started to protest, but she shook her head.

"You're right. You do deserve to know, but I can't tell you. I have to respect Harry's privacy. I'm sorry Malfoy."

"But Granger--" He attempted again.

"Harry didn't even tell me, I figured it out on my own, and that's the only reason I know, and I can't betray his trust."

"What even--" Draco tried, but she shook her head, eyes soft.

"I'm really sorry. You deserve to know more than anyone, but unless he tells you himself, I can not." 

She walked away.

Well...that was a pleasant 'conversation', if it could be called that. He could barely get a single word in.

And he still had _no_ idea what the hell Potter was telling him. Apparently, it was something really personal, if Granger couldn't say anything for fear of breaking Potter's trust. 

~

Throughout the rest of their 8th year, Potter would every now and then come up to him, and talk to him in Parseltongue, and Draco would stand and listen. Sometimes it was quick, sometimes it lasted a few minutes, but Draco always waited till the end. He foolishly hoped Potter would tell him what the bloody hell was going on at the end, but alas, that was but a wish. Other than that, Potter avoided him, or spoke to him as little as possible. Draco had tried asking a few more times _why_ Potter wouldn't tell him, expecting a different, more elaborate reply, but he always got the same answer back.

_'Because you deserve better.'_

That was it. Nothing more, nothing less, just that one ridiculously vague statement. It drove Draco up the damn wall, thinking about what Potter wanted. He searched for some potion that would allow him to understand Parseltongue, or a spell or _anything_, but he found _nothing at all, _which only made him madder.

~

Then, on their graduation day, as they were ready to leave Hogwarts for the last time and get on the train, Potter came up to him again. He began to hiss, and Draco listened. When he was done however, Draco grabbed him and slammed him into the nearest tree, anger flushing him.

"You need to fucking tell me right _now!" _He snarled. Potter stayed limp, not putting up a fight, and shook his head.

"It's the last day. You kept this shit up all year. Bloody tell me already." Draco veered on begging, but Potter gently pressed him away, and peeled himself from the tree.

"You deserve better." He whispered, and walked away, slipping into the train before Draco could hex his bollocks off for this.

Just as Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, Granger approached him.

"Hello Malfoy..I.." She started. He turned to look at her. In her hands was a small, ripped up, worn out yellow notebook. It was frayed, and rumpled, Draco was surprised it was still in one piece.

"What do you want Granger?" He asked, all snappiness leaving his body. 

"I know I said I wouldn't tell you, but..it isn't fair. Harry _has_ been telling you something incredibly personal and important, and I _know_ he would never say it in English, but..he wrote it all down. Planned out what he would say. Here.." 

Draco reached for the notebook, but Granger moved it away. She gave him a meaningful look:

"Just...don't..don't tell him about this..He'll have my head. I'm only giving you this because it's really not fair towards you, and we're all trying to move on from the war. Have it, read it, but don't tell him. And Malfoy, I know you might think this is all some kind of sick joke at first, but I implore you not to go down that road, because everything in this notebook is 100% genuine." 

She placed it in his hands, and slipped into the train behind Weasel.

Draco stared down at it, before running into the train too, almost losing it. He went to his compartment, thankfully he was alone, and sat down, still staring at the yellow notebook.

~

After half an hour, Draco couldn't resist anymore, he opened it, and found the first few pages empty, but then, page after page of Potter's barely discernible handwriting. He started to read, holding his breath, prepared for anything.

_'Dear Diary,_

_I _ _figured myself out 3 years ago. Figured this out. I'm in love with a guy, and that's how I realized I was actually gay. Of course, it being me, it's a guy I'll neither ever have nor pursue. Guess who, diary? Draco Malfoy. Because my life wasn't complicated enough before this. I don't know how or why it's him I ended up falling for, but I've done a lot of thinking, reflecting if you will, and come to realize he was always there. I mean, well..he wasn't exactly the most pleasant person ever, but he was also the only person that never once bought into the 'Hero' image. He treated me as you would treat anyone else you didn't like, if a bit worse. Sure, Ron's always been there too, but even Ron had his moments of jealousy over fame, or insecurity because I was the Chosen One or whatever. And Draco just..never did any of it. He treated me pretty normally in fact. If not like his equal, like his lesser, which isn't appealing, but it's better than how most people saw me as some hero. I'm no hero, I'm a disaster. Draco always saw that. He saw how incompetent I was with half my subjects, how I dressed like shit, how I could never tame my hair. He did tease me mercilessly for it all, and sometimes went a bit too far, but in the end, it always came down to one thing: I wasn't the Chosen one to him, I was just 'Potter', an annoying bastard._

_It sounds fucked up, believe me I know. But that's hardly the only reason I fell in love with him. Over the years I had taken to watching him constantly, and I noticed he was much more than the bully I knew him as. He laughed with his friends, and they laughed with him. He's smart as a whip too, excellent in most of his subjects, even better than Hermione sometimes, but shh, I never said that. Especially in Potions. Always gets it flawless. I almost don't even blame Snape for his favoritism. If I was in his place, I'd adore Draco too, that boy can concoct potions around most of the school. Of course, I was never subject to the dry humor and intelligence, but I saw it well enough from all the creepy staring I did. I admit, I was a bit of a stalker. And over the years, he started to change too. Changed from a whiny brat, to an arrogant brat, then to...something else in 6th year, that I couldn't quite decipher. So I actually did stalk him. I used the Marauder's map to follow him around, just to learn what he was doing. I was sure he was up to something. That was part of the reason I followed him, the other part of it was because I simply wanted to be near him. Without getting into a squabble. I was fine admiring from afar. Then...in the bathroom..Gods, I nearly killed him. That was the moment I knew for sure. The moment I knew I loved him. Only I can realize something like that after nearly killing them, but that's just Harry Potter for you. I hadn't a single clue what the spell I cast did, but after it happened..Gods, I have never regretted anything more. Snape came in and kicked me out, and I've lost sleep over it. I don't know if it scarred him or not. I've tried to apologize, but, as you can imagine, other things came up too. Namely, fucking no-nose Tom. _

_So we continued being enemies, much to my dismay, and then in 7th year, we went on the Horcrux hunt. I was away for a whole year, and didn't see him. It only made my feelings stronger. Now that he wasn't there every day, I could think without getting distracted. Of course, that wasn't good at the time. We got captured by Snatchers at one point too, and they took us to the Malfoy Manor, though they weren't sure if it was really me, so they asked Draco to identify me. He looked at me, looked me right in the eyes, and lied. He knew it was me. I saw that he knew. He still lied for me. He saved my life that day. I did pull him out of that Fiendfire that one time too, but still, I can never thank him enough. He was forced into taking the Mark, and I feel horrible about that to this day, simply because I know if he had a choice he wouldn't of taken it. He was tasked with killing Dumbledore you see, diary, and I happened to be there, watching everything. He lowered his wand, he couldn't do it. Of course he couldn't. As big of an arse as he used to be, he was not a killer. Just a really, really attractive boy. Snape killed Dumbledore that night. _

_And then the war broke out and ended, and everything was in shambles. I spoke at his and his mother's trials, spoke of how they both saved my lives, how they were forced into this situation, wasn't their fault, and thankfully, my word was enough to put them on probation. Narcissa Malfoy is under house arrest, and he has to return to Hogwarts to the final year as part of his probation. If he causes trouble...well..it's right to Azkaban. I shudder to think of him locked away in Azkaban. I just can't see it. His pretty face and perfect hair just can't be imagined in a prison cell. They don't belong in one. _

_And so, we returned for our mock 8th year. I'd died once in the war, and it only helped me realize life is too short to dawdle. I realized that we only get one chance to go after the things we want. And I know what I want. Who, rather. But, despite knowing this, I will not pursue him. When he came back to school, he was tormented ruthlessly, constant jinxes and hexes and taunts, and it was horrible. He never retaliated, he was awfully skinny and gaunt and it breaks my heart to this day. I tried to help when I could. Taking jinxes off of his things, casting protection spells, spelling away curses and tripping jinxes set on the ground where he passed by. No one knew I did this, everyone just assumed we were still enemies. I didn't offer my help outright, because I knew that would offend what little pride he had remaining, so I opted to help out from the sidelines. I wasn't always there though, and couldn't always react in time, which never failed to irk me. Anyways, I could see that he's changed drastically. And who wouldn't? It was a war, for Merlin's sake! _

_None of the treatment he got was fair, of course. He hadn't a choice, but not everyone knew that either. He just kept his head down most of the time, and existed quietly. I realized that it's so much better and safer for him if I left him alone, because if I pursued him, the public would only slander his name more. Accuse him of Imperiusing me, or some other rot, and he might be taken to Azkaban based on those false accusations. Even if that didn't happen, he would only be even more bullied and that's the absolute last thing I want. It would only make him more miserable, and that's not the point of loving someone. And even if that didn't happen either, the crux of the issue is that he isn't exactly interested in me, of all people. For all I know he isn't even into men. And, if he is into men, he wouldn't be into me specifically. I'm a right mess, and he's...well..perfect. A fucking God. Most mornings I end up tying my shoelaces wrong, messing up my tie, my hair looks as if it has never seen a comb, and believe me I tried to tame it many times, nope, doesn't work. I'm short and far too scrawny for someone who killed the greatest Dark Lord of all history. And I'm completely disorganized and lost when it comes to most things. Draco is capable and organized, pristine even, and here I am, awkward mess writing about a mad crush in a bloody diary, because, no matter how much I want him, I won't pursue him. It's safer for him that way. _

_He deserves better._

_However, I don't want to leave Hogwarts without ever having told him how I feel. So, I got a brilliant idea one night, when I was thinking about him instead of sleeping. Most nights I end up doing that, actually, but that's besides the point. I decided I will tell him everything, but in Parseltongue. That way, I would have my peace of mind, and he wouldn't understand a word. That way, he won't be burdened by me and my feelings, he won't have an extra load to carry. I can't imagine his mental health is the best now, and I certainly don't want to become another issue. If letting him go is the best thing for him, then so be it. I don't think I'm likely to fall out of love with him anytime soon, though. It's been 3 years already, and my feelings haven't changed, so I doubt they ever will, but that's okay. I just want him to be happy, and that doesn't include me, which I'm okay with. I've sort of resigned myself to it. The only reason I'm writing all this down is to have an idea of what I want to tell him. Of course it doesn't have to follow any particular linear order, he won't understand either way, but I just want it to be perfect. I want it to flow, and I don't want to forget anything. Hermione realized I'm in love with him too actually, and she's been helping me word certain things, bless her heart. Ron, of course, oblivious as ever, hasn't a clue, and I won't ever tell him. He was upset enough after me and Ginny ended things, and I don't want to overwhelm him with this. I'll tell him I'm gay of course, just not yet. I won't tell him about Draco though. He's my heart's secret to carry to the grave, if that's how it has to be._

_Thank you diary, I'll talk to him tomorrow. I hope he doesn't find a way to understand Parseltongue in the meantime. Even if I never move on and find someone else, I don't regret letting Draco go. I know it wouldn't be good for him. Haha, well, I just hope it will help me while not harming him. All I want is for Draco to be safe, and happy, and anyone who spends any length of time with me is neither. I don't want to drag him down too. It's alright though. I've made peace with it. _

_Yours,_

_Harry.'_

Draco can whole-heartedly admit that he was not, in fact, prepared for anything.

_This_, he was not prepared for in the slightest. Not one fucking bit. 

He stared blankly at the rows of words in the small notebook, not believing a single syllable. 

Potter was...he was...

Draco's thoughts shut down. It couldn't be. It just couldn't..no! What? He was tempted to storm into the Gryffindor's compartment and demand answers, but then remembered the promise he'd made to Granger. She was right. Potter _was_ telling him something extremely personal, and he couldn't be an arse now and break that promise to the girl, much as he couldn't believe what he read. It was so sincere and raw. He teared up a few times too, though he won't admit it. Closing the small notebook, he had a deathly grip on it. He never had a single clue about any of this. Potter had done a damn good job of hiding it, and Draco was slightly impressed, though mostly bitter.

The bastard professed his love in Parseltongue!

Not only was that completely uncouth, cowardly, not to mention incredibly hot, it was also infuriatingly clever. Draco hadn't a slightest idea what Potter was telling him, all the while Potter had been telling him he loved Draco. 

That just..That just didn't make any damn sense. 

How could Potter have fallen in love with Draco of all people?

Just.._how?_

Draco read the entire notebook again, and everything read the exact same way as the first time, and it only made Draco's stomach twist into a tighter knot. 

The idea that it was a joke did cross his mind, but Granger said it was all genuine, and the writing itself was so open and honest, there's no way it could have been a joke.

For the better part of the train ride, Draco just sat stiffly in his compartment, muttering to himself about everything, slowly taking apart all the words piece by piece, trying to understand this. 

And when it was time to leave the train, he gently packed the notebook away and stepped out, ending up face to face with Granger. Her brows were furrowed, bottom lip chewed to pain.

"You read it right?" She whispered, and all he could manage was a weak nod. 

"I'm sorry it had to be like this Malfoy. Just know that Harry really does love you, despite everything. I'd even say he loves you _because_ of it." She muttered, and rushed out to join her friends, while Draco stood there, paling shade after shade in shock.

~

Now, it's been 5 years since that day. Draco had gotten a job as a Potions master for an apothecary, and was content living his life. He still had the notebook, and still thought about Potter on a daily basis, every once in a while reading the notebook again. He had half the text memorized by now, and the half he didn't, he would soon be memorizing too. The more time passed, the more restless he felt about it. At first, he was just numb from shock, then he was angry, unreasonably angry, because Potter hadn't told him properly, because he never noticed anything, because he felt the same, because of everything. Then he realized he reciprocated the feelings, though it completely horrified him. _Now_, he realizes! _Now! Now when it's too damn late! _He cursed himself many times, and was ready to toss the notebook out too, but he just _couldn't_. So instead, he did the same thing Potter did, not pursue it. Tragic really, but by now Potter had surely moved on, undoubtedly, and Draco wasn't about to show up in the bastard's office at St.Mungo's and declare his love. No, it was too late for that. 

Sipping on his morning tea, he picked up the Prophet. Much as he hated it, he still occasionally read it, for nothing else but the fact they wrote about Potter most often, and much as he hated himself for it, Draco wanted to know. He'd been expecting an article again, after all it's been a month with no mentions of the Savior. The Prophet didn't disappoint. However, the article's title had Draco spit out his tea, sputtering. 

_Harry Potter opens up about his love life! Learn why is the Savior of the Wizarding World single, and what he might be interested in!_

He stared at it for a moment too long, before grasping the paper and flipping it open, eyes frantically searching for the story. It was embarrassing, you don't have to remind him. 

_'Harry Potter, the most desired man of the Wizarding World, finally agreed to speak to us on the matter of his love life. Pay attention, witches and wizards interested._

_We asked Mr.Potter the following questions, here are his answers:_

_1\. Mr.Potter, tell us, have you been on dates since graduating Hogwarts?_

_-Yes, I have been on a few dates here and there. None of them worked out really._

_2\. Why is that?_

_-Most were more interested in the name, than me. Though, I can't exactly blame the other person entirely._

_3\. What do you mean? Is some of the blame yours then?_

_-Yeah, almost all of it, actually. I'm still in love with someone from school, which is why I could never devoted myself to my dates._

_4\. Ah, will you tell us more about this lucky person? Who are they? What happened?_

_-I must apologize, but I do not wish to speak about them. I will say however, that they are the most amazing person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting._

The article went on, but Draco's heart had long since stopped. Potter was still in love with someone from school? That had to be Draco..His eyes wandered to the coveted notebook. He couldn't believe Potter would just outright say this to the fucking Prophet, and essentially only get hounded with more questions. And likely have another, completely false article published that paired him with some random bird from school. The thought really stirred Draco. Though, if he was tired of getting asked to constant dates, he went about it the right way. Any self respecting witch or wizard wouldn't stoop so low as to go on a date with someone just to be a rebound. Even that someone being Harry Potter. Draco put the paper down, and shakily returned to his, now cold, tea. 

He truly needed a minute to regain control of his faculties. Suddenly, he stood up and started to pace around his small flat. Potter was a stupid idiot. That's what he was. A stupid fucking lovable idiot. It took Draco entirely too long to come to realize he loved the tosspot, and he'd given up on doing anything about it. He figured it was too late, and that Potter had moved on, but apparently fucking _not_. Why the bloody hell didn't he tell Draco?! Well, obviously he didn't know about Draco's feelings, but Draco was irrationally angry and ready to blame everything else but himself. The blonde ran a hand through his hair, his anger simmering in his blood, before he couldn't stay in his house anymore. He grabbed the paper and apparated to Mungo's. Without taking a moment to think about how this is a horrible idea, he stormed in and demanded to be shown Potter's office. And he stepped in without hesitation, not even knocking, breath suddenly catching in his throat as he saw the man himself after so many years. Potter looked just as surprised to see him, if a little apprehensive.

The door closed behind Draco, and he winced. _Bloody hell he aged well._ He was all chiseled jaw and broad shoulders and muscle now, and Draco had to take a swift double take. His hair was still unruly, but now it just looked so fucking _hot_, and he'd done away with the glasses, his eyes shining brighter than ever. Those fucking _eyes. _Greener and deeper than anything else Draco had ever seen.

"M-Malfoy?" He stammered after a moment, and his voice had deepened as well. Fuck, Draco was screwed. He had entirely forgotten what the hell he even came here for. Just one look at the guy had him drooling. Suddenly, the weight of the paper in his hand registered, and his uncanny anger returned. He held up the paper and his eyes flashed:

"What the bloody hell is this?" He hissed, waving it accusingly.

"Uh..newspaper?" Potter muttered dumbly, a deep blush coating his darker skin.

Draco rolled his eyes and slammed the paper down onto Potter's desk:

"No shit Potter. I meant the article!" Draco barked, still not quite aware why he was so angry. 

"Oh that...well..they'd been hounding me for years about my non-existent love life, and well, finally tired me out." Potter replied, eyebrow arched, not looking up at Malfoy.

"You're an idiot! You can't just tell the fucking Prophet that you're in love with someone and expect them to leave well enough alone!" Draco kept snarling, quickly trying to remember the reason he came here. 

"Malfoy, calm down, first of all. You haven't seen me in 5 years, and you just came here to yell at me about the Daily Prophet." Potter spoke, not a hint of malice in his voice. It was so gentle..

"Yes! Of course I came to yell at you over it! They'll pair you up with every single person who attended Hogwarts!" Draco seethed, and it suddenly clicked that he only came because he didn't want to read an article claiming Potter was in love with someone else. Though, Potter didn't exactly have any control over it, he was the closest thing Draco could yell at, so here they were.

"What's it to you anyways?" Potter laughed, eyes crinkling. Draco's knees nearly gave.

"I---" He started, suddenly losing his voice. He couldn't tell him _now_. "Well I don't know actually. I read the article, and got mad at you." Draco diverted the subject.

"As you usually do. Well, I'm sorry?" Potter smiled once more, and Draco had to take a seat. 

"Shut up Potter. I don't even know why I came here anymore." The blonde tutted at himself, staring off through the window behind Potter. 

"Awh, you missed me!" The raven's grin only grew, his eyes sparkling brighter. 

"Missed you? _No._" Fuck yes, terribly.

"Yes you did! Admit it, Draco. You were just looking for a reason to come yell at me again!" Potter teased, leaning forwards onto his forearms, and Draco looked away. Potter was entirely too happy to get yelled at. The man just used his given name so naturally too, as if they were _friends_, as if it's always been that way. 

"_Fine._ Maybe just a little bit." Draco relented, crossing his arms like a child. Potter's stupid bubbly laugh nearly had him breaking out into a grin too.

"Knew it! To be honest, I missed you too Malfoy." He shrugged, and Draco wanted to laugh. He knew literally everything, and poor Potter had no idea. Instead of chuckling, Draco nodded.

"Of course you did. I'm dashing!" He replied cheekily. Potter was silent, and just observing him for a moment, but said nothing. He tilted his head like a puppy while he observed Draco, and honestly, how dare he be so _endearing_?

"Wanna grab a pint after I get off work? It sure has been awhile since we last saw each other." Potter suddenly asked, looking incredibly nervous and shy. Draco had to swallow a few times, and blink dumbly at the other man. Gods knew he wanted to. But..but what if..what if he got drunk and spilled everything? And would that be so bad, since Potter felt the same? Draco drew his bottom lip between his teeth, and thought about it. Potter's eyes watched Draco's lips. This was an incredibly dumb idea. Draco would regret this. He knew he would regret this. All of it. Merlin, what was he doing?

"Sure. When do you get off?" Draco agreed, surprising even himself that his voice didn't crack. Potter's blinding smile made all the anxiety melt away for a moment.

"At 8. Meet you at the Leaky?" The raven asked, leaning back into his chair, looking like some kind of Adonis. 

Draco nodded, and stood up. He exited the office with as much poise as he could muster, then squealed outside of the door. _Jesus Christ this was bad._ He apparated home as soon as he could, entirely excited for 8pm.

~

At 7:45 pm, Draco found himself exactly in front of the Leaky, second guessing himself. What if Potter didn't come? Of course that was silly, but Draco couldn't help but wonder. However, not even 5 minutes later, the man himself appeared out of the shadows, dressed in a loose t-shirt that exposed more of his collarbones than was strictly legal, and simple jeans. Simple, but damn effective. 

"Hey." He greeted when he arrived in front of Draco.

"Hi." Draco muttered, and they entered. Sitting down at the bar, they ordered two firewhiskeys each.

"So, what's it been like?" Potter asked, apparently not one for small talk. Good, neither was Draco.

"Straight to the point are we?" Draco teased, taking a sip of the alcohol, relishing the burn.

"Would you rather I asked you about the weather?" Potter snorted, resting his head in his hand.

"God no. It's been fine. Difficult, as I'm sure you can imagine. Not as bad as I had been expecting, actually." Draco shrugged. He was hexed, he was spat at, but the press kept his name intact mostly, surprisingly enough. And after a year, it all kind of stopped. The people just ignored him on the streets. Draco preferred it that way anyways.

"I noticed the press wasn't as big a menace as I assumed." Potter commented.

"Been watching me then?" Draco arched an eyebrow, looked incredibly smug, but he was kind of glad.

"Well..honestly, yeah. You _did_ save my life once." He pointed out, not looking at all uncomfortable speaking about the war.

"You've saved mine too." Draco shrugged. "Never got to thank you for that."

"I couldn't have just left you to burn alive." He took another sip. 

"I suppose not." Draco agreed.

"I'm sorry, for 6th year. I had no idea.." He apologized suddenly. Potter's eyes clouded over with genuine regret.

"Bloody hell, it's fine, shut up." Draco almost slipped about the notebook, but clamped his big mouth shut just in time.

"Did it scar?" Potter asked, looking down at his hands. Draco just sighed:

"Yes, it did. It's not that bad really, you can stop worrying." 

Potter just nodded. After a moment, he livened up the conversation:

"Got a special someone Malfoy?" 

Draco choked on his drink, and burst into laughter. This guy would be the death of him!

"No, who would want me anyways? An ex Death Eater and all that rot." 

Potter shrugged, though he shifted in his seat:

"I can imagine a number of people would want you."

"Like who?" Draco challenged. He knew what he was hoping Potter would say, and also knew that was foolish. He stated many times in the notebook that he wouldn't pursue Draco. _Please fucking pursue Draco._

"Other ex Death Eaters maybe?" He joked. Draco rolled his eyes:

"Ha-ha! There's no money you could pay me to shag some other ex Death Eater guy." 

Then he realized what he'd said. For a moment, the air was still. Then, Potter moved on with the conversation, as if nothing happened, and Draco was glad for the finesse.

"And_ who_ would you shag then?"

Draco chuckled, and looked around, pretending to think about it. _You. I'd shag you in a second._

"I don't know. Out of the people we went to school with, no one. I don't know many interesting guys now." He answered instead.

"Ah, to be honest same. Maybe I would have shagged Zabini, but I don't know who else really." Potter replied, casual as ever.

Blaise. Blaise better not be interested on taking Potter up on that offer, or there'd be hell to pay.

"Really? A Slytherin? My, I must say I'm surprised." Draco smirked. 

"Yep." Potter nodded, hiding his grin with his glass. "Slytherins are hot." He admitted.

"Of course we are. We get only the finest of witches and wizards." Draco snobbed, but he was thrilled to hear this.

"Yeah, yeah. Pureblood and all that crap." Potter waved him off with a roll of his eyes.

"What about you Potter? Planning on pursuing your mystery love?" Draco asked, and his heart sped up, blasted it be.

"No, not really." His shoulders slumped. 

"Why?" _Why do you do this to me?_

"Safer for him. Been a while since the war ended and all, but I can't imagine the outrage." Potter took a large gulp. His cheeks and neck were flushed. It looked so pretty on his skin.

"Who gives a rat's arse? Go after him if you love him." Draco vigorously attempted to change Potter's mind. While he _could_ also go courting Potter, he knew that the guy would be too absorbed in his worry and anxiety that he wouldn't allow himself to relax into it. Better to get him trying to get Draco, because at least then, his heart would be in it.

"Malfoy, you don't understand. If I go after him, the public would come down on him like absolute vultures. I don't want that." He looked on the verge of saying more, but bit it back. Potter was right, Draco knew he was. If they were to suddenly start dating, there would be so many accusations and allegations, and he'd be screwed. But fuck, he wanted Potter, and he was willing to risk it. If only Potter was too.

"They come down on anything like vultures, it's how they work. Doesn't mean you need to suffer, and who knows, maybe he feels the same?" Draco scoffed, but his voice mellowed out towards the end.

Potter gave him a funny little look, and shook his head, downing his drink in one go. 

"I can assure you he does _not_ feel the same. And, I'm not going to cause him more trouble than he's already suffered." 

_I can assure you, that you are fucking wrong, numbknut._

Draco was so done, that he almost just blurted everything then and there. Instead, he composed himself:

"At least tell me who the lucky guy is?" 

_Come on Potter. Come on!_

"Nope." Potter shook his head. "Not telling you." 

"Why?" Draco whined, pouting. 

"Let's just say it's too close for comfort." Potter half-shrugged again, ordering another firewhiskey.

"Don't tell me its the Weasel?" Draco acted scandalized. Potter's eyes widened comically:

"Oh my God, no! Ron--I would never--Ron just isn't my type!" He spluttered, and glared half-heartedly at Draco, who was laughing.

"What's your type then Potter?" Draco baited him. _Spit it out already, you moron!_

"Tall, lean, a Slytherin.." Potter counted off, staring away. "Smart, preferably affectionate.." He kept going, voice trailing off. "A good shag." He finished, chortling. Draco flushed for the first time in the night. It was the drink, he swears.

"Your type Malfoy?" Potter then countered, grinning. Draco leaned his chin in his palm, and pretended to think about it.

"I like a guy to be shorter than me, not by much though, exactly 4 inches. Wild, unruly hair, a brunette. I'm a sucker for green eyes. Affectionate, a bit dumb in potions, must love treacle tart-" Potter cut him off:

"Damn, that's specific." 

"Shut up. I'm picky!" Draco snipped, then continued: "I like round glasses that he has to constantly push up onto his nose..." He didn't know whether to go on just yet, he'd already essentially described Potter to Potter. But there was no recognition in the guy's eyes. He wasn't getting it. Of course he wasn't! Such an oblivious bastard! 

"Really Malfoy, that's so specific. I don't think you'll ever find anyone like that." 

_Fuck it._

"I wasn't finished Potter. I didn't list the deal breakers yet." Draco's eyes flashed, and his stomach twirled. Potter only grunted for him to continue and Draco took a short breath:

"_Absolutely must_ have a lightning bolt scar, and _must_ have saved the whole of Wizarding World before he was 20. Also, _must_ be an annoying git who refused to be friends with me and thus forced me into being his enemy for 8 whole years. Otherwise, don't bother." 

A crash indicated Potter had dropped his glass. It shattered on the floor, the drink flowing everywhere. Draco glanced at him, a shy smile playing on his lips while Potter blinked dumbly, jaws open.

"You'll catch flies Potter. Close your mouth." 

Potter obeyed, still staring in absolute silence. 

"How much did you have to drink exactly?" He finally mumbled, and Draco scoffed, offended:

"I had one pint Potter. I am most definitely not drunk, not even buzzed."

"Then you're sick." Potter concluded, and Draco rolled his eyes. Really, this guy.

"Healthy as ever Potter. I know what I said." 

Potter just kept staring. 

"You dumb buffoon, don't just stare, say something for Merlin's sake!" Draco snapped, unable to bear the silence any longer. He was starting to second guess himself. 

"I..I can't believe you said that." Potter mumbled finally. 

"Trust me, neither can I." Draco agreed. 

"So it's true?" Potter asked again, more than a little hopeful.

"Obviously Potter. Merlin you're slow." He nicked, without venom. 

"I am slow." Potter agreed, a wide grin overtaking his features, reaching his eyes, making them dance with such a brilliant shade of green, lighting up his entire face so, making Draco's heart stutter. _Fucking love._

"So? Is that all you have to say? Really?" Draco asked, hesitant.

"No, I'm just trying not to go into cardiac arrest currently. Give me a moment." He ran a hand through that mop of hair. Draco kind of wished to do that too. After exactly one minute, he drawled:

"Moment's up. Speak." 

Potter chuckled nervously.

"There's not much to say really." Then, an idea seemed to flash in his head. He started to hiss. The bastard started to speak Parseltongue! The nerve! A hot shudder ran through Draco, but he would not be swayed.

"Oh no you don't, you bastard, don't you fucking dare pull that on me again!" He snapped, and glared for good measure. Potter laughed heartily:

"Or what?" A mirth filled his eyes. 

"Or I'll _make_ you stop." Draco threatened, getting bold.

Potter cocked an eyebrow in interest, and kept hissing. Draco hesitated for a moment, and then grabbed Potter's shirt and pulled him in for a bruising kiss. The annoying hissing stopped momentarily, in place of his kiss being returned tenfold. His arms grappled at the back of Potter's neck, while Potter grasped at Draco's hips, kissing him with vigor. Fuck, it felt so good. Draco felt almost faint, pushing his tongue to ask for access, but Potter denied it, the prick. Draco bit down on his bottom lip, a gasp from Potter giving Draco a chance to slip his tongue inside the hot mouth. He ran it over the roof of Potter's mouth, Potter's own pushing over Draco's. It was wet, and incredibly hot, and Draco felt so alive with the sparks alighting his body. His slim fingers tangled into Potter's hair, and Potter's hands moved so they were secured around Draco, pulling him off of the chair and into his lap, not breaking their snog for a second.

Draco wrapped his legs around Potter best he could, straddling him, tugging on his hair, eliciting small groans out of the man. Potter sucked on his tongue, and Draco mewled, feeling rough hands skate up and down his back. Potter's mouth left Draco's for a moment, slipping down to his jaw, nibbling lightly, moving down to kiss Draco's neck. The blonde craned his head, giving him better access. Potter kissed over the expanse of Draco's pale skin, nibbling and leaving searing bites, searching. Draco felt quiet moans leave his lips, as Potter found the spot that made Draco's blood surge down to his cock with rapid speed. His back arched into Potter's hot mouth, hands gripping at his hair tighter. 

"Let's get out of here yeah?" Potter's voice was impossibly deep and incredibly husky. Draco only nodded breathlessly. Gods.

He felt Potter grip him tighter, and then, a faint tug in his navel as they apparated out of the bar. For a vague moment, Draco wondered if they'd paid their tab, then decided he didn't care as he they landed in a bedroom, presumably Potter's, and after a moment, Draco was falling back onto a bed, Potter landing on top of him, their bodies pressed hotly together. Clothes. There were too many fucking clothes. Draco tugged on Potter's shirt, begging him to take it off, to absorbed in Potter's lips ghosting over a spot under his ear, tugging on his earlobe, making Draco's head spin. He tugged on the shirt harder, attempting to just plain rip it off the man on top of him, and he felt Potter chuckle against his skin. The sound rumbled through him. Potter held himself up with his arms, and stared down at Draco, pupils blown and eyes clouded with _want_ that Draco was sure were reflected in his own eyes. Then he snapped his fingers, and all of his clothes vanished off of his body, making Draco choke on his own spit for a moment. He took a moment to let his eyes wander over the broad shoulders, the hard chest, the defined stomach, down to the hard cock that hung between Potter's toned thighs. He wanted it inside of him. Annoyingly enough, his own clothes were intact, though his burning skin would likely melt them away.

Draco felt his own cock straining through his too tight jeans, when Potter came down and kissed him again, Draco's hand flying to explore every inch of the man's back and chest, every piece of skin. He raked his fingers over the planes of muscle, raking them, Potter groaning into their kiss all the while. Potter ground his hips down into Draco's own, and the blonde groaned, arching into him. Slowly, Potter's fingers came up to Draco's shirt, unbuttoning it, his lips following every bit of exposed skin with kisses that left Draco fluttering. As he worked on the buttons, his lips trailed down Draco's chest, leaving open mouthed kisses, going lower and lower, a low keen shuttering out of Draco's throat as Potter bit right above the waistband of his jeans. He climbed back up, frowned at the faint scars, and then bent his head, kissing down their length gently, licking, sucking on the scarred skin. Draco was colorfully hissing under his breath. He mumbled apology after apology, mouth gently working over them. After he'd given the scars he'd left appropriate care, his lips latched over a nipple, sucking and tongue trailing over the nub, making Draco arch his back. He quickly moved onto the other one, giving it the same care before he slipped Draco's shirt right over his shoulders, tossing it aside somewhere. He climbed back up to kiss Draco again, the kiss not as hungry as it had been thus far, no, this was one slow and loving. His tongue gingerly pressed over Draco's, before he broke it to once again leave an assault over Draco's neck, trailing down until he was leaving bites over the pale collarbones, tongue darting out to soothe the bitten flesh.

Draco's mind was swimming in a haze of lust, and he was repeatedly bucking his hips against Potter, who held him down with his weight. He whined and scrabbled at his jeans, but Potter knocked his hands away, pinning them above his head with one large hand. He bucked helplessly once more, trying to wrestle his wrists free because goddammit he wanted to touch Potter. He was unable to free his wrists unfortunately, and settled for just whimpering about it. He felt his cock leaking, and needed his jeans and pants off in a matter of the next few seconds. Potter's other hand came to rest on Draco's hips trailing patterns over the denim, his mouth grazing downwards so fucking _slowly_, finally coming to the waist. He managed to unbutton the button with his teeth, winking up at a writhing Draco, and grabbing the zipper, pulling it down. 

"Take them the fuck off already!" Draco groaned through clenched teeth when Potter took his sweet time pulling them down. All this earned him was a momentary pause and a chuckle. As soon as his jeans were down to his ankles, he was furiously kicking them off, sighing at the release of pressure on his cock. Potter kissed all the way up Draco's leg, coming up to nibble and kiss and suck on his inner thighs. He released Draco's wrists, but they lay limply above Draco's head, the blonde too lost to actually remember to use his arms. He hooked a finger into the waistband of Draco's pants, and pulled it back, only to let it snap back against his skin. Draco hissed and attempted to glare down at Potter, though it was ruined by the needy chirp that left his throat unbidden. Potter only winked at him again and grabbed the waistband, finally pulling it off of Draco, his cock springing free finally. Draco gasped, and kicked off his pants, now completely naked as well. 

Potter was back and kissing him again, this time forcefully, ferally, and Draco relished every second. He replied in earnest, blunt nails scratching down Potter's back, grabbing his arse. Potter replied by grinding his hips down, their exposed erections rubbing together, making them both break between a gasp and a moan. 

"_Fuck.." _Draco whispered when Potter's hand trailed down and grabbed the base of his cock. He slowly stroked upwards, holding Draco's hips pinned, though Draco was still attempting to buck into his hand. Everything felt so hot. Whiny keens escaped him, and Potter was slowly moving back on the bed, startling Draco for a good moment. He eyed Draco's cock, before smiling, and going down to lick the slit. Draco cursed and bucked, but Potter moved away, using both hands to keep his hips pinned. He lowered his head again, licking a stripe up the length of Draco's cock, making the blonde throw his head back and grunt. _Bloody hell_..

The raven's magical tongue wrapped around the head, and he sucked on it harshly, the bout of pleasure wretching up Draco's spine. He felt his stomach coil tight. Then he took him into his mouth in earnest, able to take him nearly all the way, his hand making up for what he couldn't. A wild, long curse escaped Draco, and Potter started bobbing his head up and down, his hand moving in the same rhythm. He was going slowly, his tongue wrapping around Draco's shaft, eliciting the most crestfallen sighs and needy gasps out of the blonde. Potter's other hand moved down Draco's chest, tweaking a nipple, making Draco arch off the bed again, before continuing to trail down, mouth never ceasing it's work. The hand slipped lower, cupping the blonde's balls, fondling them lightly, forcing a choked gasp out. The heat in Draco's stomach coiled tighter, and tighter, and _tigher.._He was close, _so_ close..Potter sped up his pace, sucking harsher, licking the slit that was already dripping with pre-come. His toes curled from the pleasure and he just barely managed to croak out that he was so close, almost there, when Potter, the every annoying bastard that he is, stopped, and pulled off of Draco's throbbing cock. A loud, prolonged whimper escaped Draco, he was right _there_. It was cut short by Potter's mouth on his however, and he had to grasp at those wide shoulders to stay present on Earth. Every Potter's touch lit his body on fire, and though he ached for the release he was denied, he didn't get the chance to complain, as he felt a finger trailing around his entrance. It was slow, gentle, and in any other scenario Draco would have appreciated the care, but right now, it was the exact opposite to what he wanted. 

"Get on with it Potter!" He snapped, and Potter shot him another crooked grin, leaving soft kisses over his neck, before moving down between Draco's thighs, removing his finger, and instead pressing his tongue flat over the puckered hole. A violent shudder rippled through Draco, and he keened. Potter licked a stripe straight over the length of Draco's arsehole, his hands cupping the soft flesh of his arse, spreading him further. He licked again, and Draco gasped. _Fuck_. Then, Potter closed his lips around the soft skin of Draco's hole and gently sucked, his tongue darting out to slowly poke and prod around, teasing, waiting for permission. Draco couldn't speak even if he wanted to, but he canted his hips towards Potter, hoping he would take the hint. And he did. But he kept teasing, pressing in on the edges, but never quite slipping in. Draco was growing steadily irritated, and growled in frustration:

"I swear to Merlin, Potter if you do not put _something _in me right _now_, I'll wrangle your neck!" He hissed at the other man. He felt teeth graze over the skin and his sentence broke off, before Potter finally pushed his tongue past the loosened ring of muscle. Draco sighed, a hot wave of pleasure erupting inside him, making his skin tingle. Potter's tongue moved around inside him, exploring, pressing and stretching him, Draco bucking his hips down onto it shamelessly. The raven pushed his tongue in deeper, reaching as far as he could, pulling it in and out, slowly fucking Draco with it. The blonde was going taut above him, whimpering, aching for more. Potter kept his pace up, bringing one hand up to grab at Draco's leaking cock. 

"Oh _fuck,_ shit, shit, _fuck--" _His string of expletives was promptly cut off by a groan when Potter stroked his cock in a quick manner, thumbing the slit, tightening his handle on the head. After another moment, Potter ceased all movement again, and sat back on his knees to observe Draco hungrily. His green eyes seemed almost black, and Draco almost came at the passion on his face. His own cock was leaking, but he paid it no heed, completely focused on Draco. His eyes raked over the pale man in front of him, taking everything in slowly. Said pale man, however, could not deal with slowly any more. 

"Potter, _please.._" He begged, barely aware of himself as his arse clenched on empty air. 

_"_Please_ what?" _That deep, husky voice would be Draco's undoing one day.

"_Something_, Merlin_.._" Anything, he'd take anything by this point. There was a coiling need writhing just under his skin, and bloody hell it ached. 

Potter, the sweetheart, obliged, muttering a spell that made Draco gasp as he realized his arse had filled with lube. It was dripping out of him, and there was likely far too much of it, but he didn't care. It was cold, but pleasant against all the heat coursing through his blood. Potter, again, flicked his fingers over the waiting hole, teasing until he realized Draco was giving him a death glare, and he chuckled, slowly pushing one finger in. 

"Holy _fucking _ shit, _fuck, _shit--" Draco cursed, his arse stretching around the finger buried up to the second knuckle in it. There was enough lube to make it smooth, and slick, but the slight burn came over Draco in shivers. Potter patiently waited for Draco to settle, leaning over to kiss down his chest and collarbones, hoping to distract his lover. His other hand was running up and down Draco's thigh, soothing him. The blonde would never admit it, but he glowed in the care Potter was taking. 

"You can move." He breathed, once the burn had subsided, and was replaced by a pleasant throb of being filled with something. Potter nodded into his neck, and nuzzled his nose against it, before slowly pulling his finger out, and pushing back in, curling it, just barely grazing Draco's prostate. Draco swore loudly, his toes curling, cock twitching, as Potter did it again, pressing a bit higher this time, so he would press into it completely. He fucked Draco with one finger, at a steady pace for a while, and Draco was shaking with how good it felt, but how it still wasn't enough.

"More." He whispered into Potter's incredibly soft hair, and Potter hummed over his skin, still leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses over his throat and collarbones, occasionally nipping at Draco's jaw. He inserted another finger, stilling again, waiting for Draco to adjust. It wasn't a moment later that Draco was frantically nodding his head, gasping out a 'yes'. Potter started to move both fingers, slowly pushing and stretching Draco, curling them to feel the sensitive spot, reveling in the soft cries that escaped his lover. He brought his other arm to wrap around Draco, cradling him close, the blonde burrowing his head in Harry's neck. He continued to move, eventually adding a third finger, groaning when Draco bit into the junction between his neck and shoulder. He moved slowly, careful not to go too quickly, or too slowly, it had to be just right. 

"You're so beautiful Draco.." Harry whispered into his blonde's ear, and he felt a shiver pass through Draco's back beneath his palm. A soft sigh escaped him. The blonde was gasping and whimpering with need and pleasure, he couldn't string a coherent thought, let alone speak anything else than simple pleas.

"I'm ready, _fuck..please_, fuck me..I'm ready.._fuck, please!" _Draco whispered hurriedly, hips never ceasing to work between them. He was clenching on Potter's fingers, but fuck he needed something bigger to fill him. He felt so close, on edge, but just not able to fall over yet. Harry shushed him, and removed his fingers, moving so he would align himself with Draco's entrance. Slowly, he pressed the head of his cock to Draco's entrance, not pushing deeper yet. He wanted Draco to be sure and relaxed. The blonde's head was thrown back, and slow, long breaths escaped him. 

"I swear to fucking God, Potter, if you're not in me in the next 3 seconds, I will _impale_ you!" Draco snapped, writhing. Harry could only grin and push in slowly, until he was buried completely inside the blonde. They both whinnied at the feeling, Draco's arse tight and warm around Harry, clenching and inviting. Draco rapidly lost all of his faculties as he felt Potter in him, fully in him, so deep, so _good_. His cock was throbbing and Draco could feel it all, _wanted_ it all. Gods, how he _wanted_ it. He felt stretched out, almost torn into two, but he loved the burn too. Savored each moment, before slowly, the burn had died down, his body used to the intrusion. Potter's hands were still rubbing his thighs, his stomach, drawing small patterns in his hips, working to relax him. A soft purr escaped Draco, before he settled down on the bed:

"Move. Right _now_." The blonde commanded, and gasped as Potter began to move, not pulling out all the way yet, just moving back and forth a few times, before pulling out nearly completely, and thrusting back in. He kept an easy pace at first, changing the angle once, looking for Draco's prostate. A scream of pleasure had been Harry's indicator that he'd found it, and he kept thrusting in such a way, careful to hit it each time. He was still controlling his pace though, he didn't want to hurt Draco.

"_Fucking _harder Potter, oh _my_ god, right _there--_" The blonde was babbling incoherently, just wishing Potter would go faster, he needed him to go _harder_. He wanted Potter to just take him, _fucking hell. _

And Harry lost it.

He began to pound away, leaning over Draco, staring down at the man with such adoration in his eyes, that Draco felt choked up for a moment looking into those green eyes. He felt so open, vulnerable, but he trusted Harry. He wasn't scared of sharing himself, he had no reservations like he might've expected. Harry snapped his hips back and forth, Draco's own canting to meet him at each thrust, Harry hitting that wonderful little spot inside him every time, making Draco arch and writhe on the bed, fist the sheets and throw his head back, screaming at the surging, rushing hot pleasure that would swathe over him, his entire body tingling with the constant warm shivers. The knot in his stomach was so tight, so hot, so _close_ to exploding. He didn't even have time to warn Harry, before he felt his orgasm ripple through him. He came hard, Harry's name on his lips, thick globs of spunk heaving out of his prick, his mind fuddled and muddied, body taut, toes curled, as he just kept _coming._ Harry didn't stop moving, riding him through the pleasure for as long as he was able to, before his own orgasm cut through him, and Draco could feel Harry's spunk fill him deeply, making another sigh ripple past his lips. He was breathing heavily, and he felt Harry was too, the man's arms giving out in the wake of his climax, collapsing on top of Draco's chest. Harry could hear Draco's erratic heartbeat, that matched his own quite closely. Slowly, carefully, Harry pulled out of Draco, lifting off of him, and falling onto his back beside him. _Dear Merlin that was..._ His thought was cut off by the sound of deep breaths being drawn, and Draco rolling onto his side to stare at Harry, though Harry noted he winced. Harry rolled over to face him too, and they just locked eyes for a few seconds, smiling like absolute fools, the two of them. 

"I really hate myself right now." Draco chuckled finally, voice low and exhausted. Harry snorted:

"Why?" His voice was equally as worn.

"I waited 5 years for this." He admitted, pouting. Harry cocked an eyebrow, and Draco explained with a flush:

"I might have figured out I was in love with you a few months after we graduated, and I might not have had the balls to come see you.." 

Harry laughed, eyes twinkling:

"And to think it was the fucking _Prophet_ that made you snap."

"I would absolutely not allow them to post some rubbish article of you with anyone else." Draco chuckled, though the underlying tone was quite present.

"Of course you wouldn't. Well, good thing they won't have to isn't it?" Harry replied, leaning his forehead on Draco's, assuring him.

"Yes. They won't have to." Draco agreed.

"Now, I have a confession to make." The blonde continued, biting his lip. Harry just tilted his head to the side like he always did when he was interested in something. 

"Risking Granger having my head on a pike, I have to tell you something." He swallowed. "But you have to promise me not to blow up on her." 

Harry laughed and shook his head: 

"I won't. Promise."

"Good." Draco kissed Harry's nose. "The day we graduated, she gave me your notebook."

Harry stilled, and stared at Draco incredulously, eyes shifting from one of Draco's to the other. His face was blank. 

"And I read it on the train." Draco carefully continued. "So your Parseltongue efforts were for naught. However, it was very hot, so you're forgiven." 

Harry still just stared. Then a sigh left him. After that, a smile stretched across his face.

"Of course 'Mione did that. I was wondering where that notebook disappeared off to. She said she burned it, in light of moving on and the rot. Turns out, she actually gave it to _you_." 

"Yeah. Said I deserved to know, even if you would never tell me. Made me promise never to tell you, but...I figured...now..." 

"Yeah." Harry rolled his eyes playfully. "So you read it on the train back huh?" Harry asked, his lips quirking down just the tiniest bit.

"Yeah. I think I wasn't a functional human being for a full two weeks." Draco chuckled, remembering how out of it he was after having read that notebook several times. 

"And after the two weeks?" Harry asked. Draco thought back.

"I was angry. At you for not telling me outright. At myself, for not noticing anything. And then, a month or so later, it hit me. By then, I thought it was too late to say anything."

"Wanker." Harry snorted, muttering a cleaning charm for the both of them, cleaning off the spunk and sweat.

"I figured you'd have moved on by then. And then the article...well.." Draco shrugged. "You know the rest."

Harry nodded, eyes gently fluttering.

"Did you really think you were protecting me?" Draco asked, frowning. He knew that was the reason Potter hadn't said anything, done anything.

"Yes." He admitted, his smile freezing on his face, before dropping completely. "After the war you were..." He trailed off, searching for the right words. "Fragile, lost. I couldn't force you like that, or burden you. I knew what the press would say, I was scared they would send you away if it got out, if someone accused you of Imperiusing me. Hell, even if the press didn't say anything, the amount of Stinging hexes and Tripping jinxes I dispelled was appaling." 

Draco's brows furrowed. He had known all about the other things, but.. 

"You did what?" 

Harry shook his head: 

"Right. Yeah, you don't know. No one knows. I was trying to look out for you. Remove the jinxes and pranks, deflect the hexes and curses, that kind of thing. I knew your pride wouldn't allow you to accept my help outright, so I just did it quietly. From the sidelines, if you will." 

Draco didn't know what to say. His mouth had dried. Harry really protected him like that?

"I couldn't always be there on time, of course, so, for that, I'm sorry."

Draco shook his head, and leaned in to kiss him gently, pulling away with a wobbly smile:

"Thank you." 

A moment of comfortable silence settled over them. 

"How did Granger find out? She told me that if she hadn't figured it out on her own, you wouldn't have told her." Draco finally asked.

"Oh yeah. Hermione noticed I was staring a lot, and well, always talking about you. I think she also noticed how resigned I became. Unless we were talking about you, I wasn't really into it." Harry explained. "That's how she got it. She helped me write some of the things in 8th year."

Draco's heart clenched. He hadn't had a clue it was that bad. He felt as if he was about to cry, but he wouldn't let himself. No crying now. Instead, he decided to crack a joke:

"So your brilliant solution was to confess to me in Parseltongue?" 

"Yep. I'd have told you, but you wouldn't get any of the baggage of it." Harry grinned.

"Bastard. I lost my mind thinking about what in the hell you were telling me. I even looked for spells and potions that could help me understand Parseltongue." Draco whined.

Harry laughed, a joyous laugh:

"Did you? Oh, I love that."

"Arse. I even stooped so low as to ask Granger, but she was goody goody and wouldn't tell me. Respect your privacy and other such bollocks. Ended up giving me the notebook, so that story met its end."

"Leave it to Mione to go around gallivanting with personal notebooks." Harry shook his head fondly.

"Yeah, but..now what?" Draco asked, unsure. Harry sighed:

"Wanna take the risk? We both know what'll happen when it gets out." 

Draco could have slapped him:

"Of course I want to take the fucking risk Harry. I don't care about the public, let them have their fodder, as long as I have you." 

Harry smiled again:

"You've had me for years, Draco." 

"Parseltongue speaking prat." Draco shook his head fondly, heart jumping miles in his chest, high, free.

"But it was hot, so I'm forgiven, right?" Harry grinned, again, the crooked grin that had stars dance in Draco's vision.

"Yeah." Draco admitted, a flush overcoming him. "Say something in Parseltongue, but tell me what you said afterwards." 

Harry smiled and thought for a moment. Then, he started to hiss, low and sensual. Draco shivered and felt heat travel down to his curling toes. He hummed. Harry stopped after a moment.

"I was right. It _is_ hot. What did you say?" The blonde was smiling again.

"I love you." Harry's eyelashes fluttered as he answered, voice almost a whisper. He seemed so shy and small in the moment, and Draco's heart soared.

"I love you too." The blonde muttered back, entirely content for the first time in the 5 years he'd taken to grow a pair.

~

_Fin._


End file.
